ForkWord
Poems by Inchiki
pumpkin
the skin opens
a balloon vocalising
its innards
slow and unwound
very very so
the atmosphere is
pressured under a lie
our vessels built to contain it
can't keep it in
under certain vacuous conditions
it gets out
very very slow
fast slow
so, so
a monument
in the future
will read:
"here lied the liars to us
and
here lie the liars"
